4 Dark
by Kittygurl1111
Summary: Dark for 100 TC. Why is it Christophe always gets harassed by Gregory when the blonde brit is bored?


_Quattuor ;; Obscurus_

Theme Four; Dark

One hundred theme challenge.

Disclaimer: The Characters of South Park do not belong to me.

GregoryxChristophe "The Mole"

~Lux, et tum obscurus~

[~Light, and then dark~]

In a matter of seconds I had Gregory dragged down into the hole and met him with a glare from my dark hazel eyes. Most people would probably be terrified if they were in this situation but he started complaining about his clothes being ruined. All he cared about was the possible grass and muck stains on his clothes. What a faggot. I expected him to give me this big bitch on how his clothes were ruined and that I hated him. But all he did was stay sat in the hole and squeak out a simple "My clothes…!" He looked like he was trying to form more of a complaint through the mortification I had put him in. "If these are ruined I'm making you buy me new clothes," He bitched, but I tuned it out as I do with most of his complaining and trust me, there is a lot of complaining.

"Eet was an ugly shirt," I said simply as if that justified it all. It did to me, probably not to him. He always complained about how his clothes got ruined; well he typically didn't complain at the time they got ruined… Though that was when they were being ruined by me tearing them off instead of worrying about the buttons.

"It was not! It was a lovely shirt!" Gregory shot back at me. He wasn't going to change my opinion even if that's what he intended. I turned my neck to the side to pop it as he complained. I couldn't care less about his gay pink shirt. I hated being seen in public with him when he wore it. That's probably why he bought it and wore it today, to annoy me.

"Eet was pink, pink ees for pussies like Butters," I stated plainly as I spat my finished cigarette to the ground and crushed it out with my boot. I knew Gregory wasn't going to give up on this argument; he was like fucking Barbie when it came to his horrid clothes. I pulled a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and removed one and found my lighter to light up the cigarette.

"I'm not a pussy therefore pink is not for pussies!" The blonde said with a grin, he thought he had won this argument, blatantly. He always lost these arguments because I didn't let him twist my logic around like he did with most other people. It's probably because most people were a bit more open minded than me. Faggots, they can all go burn.

"You are and eet ees." I said simply inhaling on my cigarette as I lit it. "Eet was an ugly shirt anyway." I never really knew how Gregory was going to end his failed arguments. He was hard to predict when it came to this thing. Either he'd sulk and wibble at me until I apologized, ignore me, or do something shocking. All choices annoyed me but the last one annoyed me the most.

"I like this shirt!" Gregory said hotly as he glared up at me with ice blue eyes. He looked like a child that had just been scorned for eating candy before dinner. "You hate me, you just wanted to ruin some of my favourite clothes and get me mucky, because you hate me. Are you going to murder me with the spade now and just leave me down here to rot away?" That was the bitching I was telling you about. He gets into these pussyfits at me and expects me to care and treat him maturely. Tough luck.

"Shovel and non; zat would be too much work and I wouldn't get paid," I said with a tone full of boredom. This is how it always goes. He bitches, I stand here and listen, go along with it, get him to shut the fucking hell up and go back to whatever we were doing. I can't ignore him fully because then he throws these major sulks at me and starts behaving like a spoiled child that hasn't gotten his way. Oh, similes… You're not supposed to use real facts about the person.

"Could you do it?" He asked with a smirk and turned his head to the side so I could see the finger bruises on his neck. "Could you kill me? My mother tried… She's tried many times. She never succeeds. I always seem to get out of being murdered. Be it being saved by Amber or my dad," He brushed his hand lightly over the bruises. "Could you kill me? If you were paid?" Now that question took me a bit by shock, though I didn't let him see that it had in fact had that affect on me.

I stared at Gregory and then the bruises that were caused by his mother for a moment and then shrugged. "We'll 'ave to find out eef someone ever offers me ze money."


End file.
